


Bitter Memories

by HeyimFay



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Avengers, Stark Tower, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers-centric, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8000728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyimFay/pseuds/HeyimFay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has PTSD. And it's slowly leading to anxiety and depression. He's already halfway there, he just doesn't realise it yet. </p><p>Of course he knows somethings up, SHIELD had told him briefly what it was, but that was the extent of it. A textbook definition a couple of months after he woke up. Now, about two years later, his only real family he has left are starting to realise somethings up, and so is Steve. </p><p>He's shit scared of asking for help because of the kind of treatment mental illness patients received in the 40's, and that's really all he knows. Now, will his team, his family, be able to save him in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Downhill, fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have no idea what movies go in what chronological order, (I've seen them all I'm just really bad at working out which is when) so I'm just going with this being set about 2 years after he wakes up. Cool. Now that we're all on the same page, here you go.

Steve wakes up in a bolt-upright position. Oddly enough, he doesn't remember sitting up. His breathing is erratic, his heartbeat abnormally fast and sweat covers almost every inch of him. Almost as if somebody had pressed a button inside his head, the dream he was having rushed back into his memory in a second, hitting him like a freight train. 

_The team. **His** team. They were fighting alongside him, and in a matter of seconds, were all flat on the ground, dead. Their lifeless bodies sprawled out around him, almost strategically placed, lay unresponsive, despite his pleas and screams. The threat, whatever it was, had vanished and all focus lie on his team, his friends, God, his **family**. As Steve had started to walk over towards Clint, everything turned a crimson colour which faded quickly into black. His sense of perception, direction, logicality, everything he'd ever known was thrown out of his head. And the image of war, complete and utter anarchy flashed before him in an instant. It played like a movie, the fuzzy images flickering black and white before a burst of colour erupted like an explosion and he was there, in the thick of it. He was part of the action, the fighting. Through a thick, half-lit forest, he was running, yelling. Two of the commandos were at his side, the others ahead of him. An explosion to the left of them, a quick shot to the right, and everything went black. Ringing in the ears, a sharp, piercing tone that wouldn't let up. He was screaming. Once again, no perception of anything. He was numb, couldn't see. The only sound a high pitch, indefinite tone dulling everything._  
_He started to yell._  
_Nothing._  
_Scream._  
_Nothing still._  
_For the first time in centuries, it felt, he could feel himself moving. He jolted, his body suddenly ridged. All of a sudden, everything was clear and calm. Although it was dark, he could see. Not very well, but he could actually **see** , as opposed to watching old memories in an imaginary theatre and being sucked into them in an all too-real world of over-exposed colours and abnormally real sounds. He could **breathe** , a sensation surprisingly foreign to him in his chaotic states-of-mind. Everything seems real and still, because it is. He's awake._

"Fuck" Steve whispers to himself. He can and does swear (on occasion), contrary to the mocking tone of one Tony Stark. And in these situations, he normally does. This kind of thing doesn't happen 'every now and then'. It's constant, sometimes 2-3 times a week, sometimes every. Single. Night. 

And Steve's over it. 

He knows what it is, SHIELD warned him about it a little while after he woke up. But that was about 2 years ago. Besides, _then_ he didn't have PTSD. _Then_ he was a competent, fine young captain of an amazing team of marvellously cooperative, overly sarcastic, cynical, ambiguous superheroes who somehow work out how to save the world from whatever threat it's put under at the time of need. Well, he still is. He just has these episodes of tyrannical memories, ruthless nightmares and horrible bouts of insomnia. 

And nobody knows. 

Steve figures as long as he keeps it to himself, nobody has to know and it'll be his problem and his only. Well, he figured. For a while, too. This has gone on for a couple of months now. And Steve's stuck. He can't tell anyone, what will they think of him? The shame he'll bring to the Avengers is all Steve can think about. The team think of each other as family, but why would they want to be associated with a crazy person? Also, how do they treat this _thing_ , this illness Steve has now? He doesn't know and he doesn't want to think about it. Sure, SHIELD explained that it's a thing, but did they tell him how to fix that thing? Did they tell him who to go to if he gets that thing? Did they tell him it's a normal thing to have and he's not completely idiotic and in the dark? Did they mention that things have changed around the subject of mental illnesses since the 40's? No, they mentioned none of this. And Steve is shit scared of it all. 

He doesn't want to tell anybody, but he also feels really odd. He feels out of place. Not like, he's from the earlier end of the 20th century and is living in the year 2014 out-of-place. Like, he doesn't feel right, he has no joy in anything anymore, he's constantly tired all the time and he doesn't feel like he can tell anybody. The kind of out of place where you feel lonely in a room full of people. Because when they all bundle up on the lounge to watch a movie (yes, even Tony sometimes), he 'laughs' with them and pretends to have fun, and it's a strange feeling to have to put on a mask all the time. And Steve's tired, physically and mentally. 

And this ever so slight feeling towards a certain part of his team is driving Steve into even more confusion than he'd care to admit. He knows that he's always liked both genders but it wasn't accepted in his time, so he's surpassed it after he woke up 2 years ago. Steve doesn't know what to do about this, but at the moment it's not at the top of the list so he pushes these feelings further down than the others. Sometimes he stops and wonders if this predicimemt is contributing to his growing anxiety or the black cloud hanging over him but he doesn't want to know. And usually these thoughts are driven away by a sound or an image, even a memory that sends him straight back to the war, straight back to the ice, straight back to the hell that is his mind.

He's slowly giving up, and that's saying something. For the worlds most ambitious, go-getting, motivated man, the sensation of giving up on giving up is weird. But, once he stops hiding his feelings, once he doesn't paste a fake smile over that blank expression, once he stops going to movie nights and generally hanging around the others because he just _can't_ , his team start to notice. And he's both terrified and relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time working out HTML shit and, well, I think I did it. *all IT/computer people laughing in background at me*. Well I'm happy, idc. Cya for the next chapter if you wanna stick around.


	2. Keep it a Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team are slowly figuring things out. But what does Steve think of this? And has he had some new realisations?

It was Bruce who was the first to notice. Go figure. He'd watch Steve at breakfast, watch him almost stumble into the kitchen without the usual 'super soldier' stature he had about him. His normal posture was straight, though not forced, and his broad shoulders were pulled back, presumably from the amount of military discipline he'd had to follow. Lately though, he would curl in on himself, not realising he was doing so. His normal chirpy, chipper morning attitude that almost always made Tony and/or Clint want to punch him had disappeared, replaced with a hollow "morning Bruce" and the tiniest glint of a smile when Banner would offer his own. Bruce would make a mental note to talk to the others later, when Steve wasn't around. 

Thor had returned from Asgard, making a less-than-dainty appearance by ending up on Tony's balcony outside his bedroom at 5:30AM. Jarvis had let him in and Tony gave him a half-asleep glare as he walked past (waving), and out the door. He headed straight for the kitchen where he now knew the pop tarts were kept but stopped when he found Steve sitting on the lounge, watching the sunrise. 

"Stunning, is it not?" Thor asked him, and Steve jumped 6 feet into the air. 

"I'm sorry for disturbing your peace, Captain" Thor apologised slowly, noticing the difference in Steve's behaviour. 

"No, it's fine, Thor. I just didn't know you were coming back, didn't expect you to be standing in the kitchen. Usually nobody's out here this early" Steve explained as Thor joined him on the lounge. 

"Ms Romonov is always up at 5:30, I hear her walking down the hall" Thor exclaimed. 

"Yeah, but she goes to the gym for a couple of hours, I think. I'm usually the only one out here in the lounge room this early. Occasionally Tony'll stumble up from his lab and go to bed but other than that, it's just me" The corners of Steve's mouth turned up slightly at the mention of Tony's name. He was one of the few things that can actually make Steve smile anymore. 

"Do you come up here every morning at 6:00?” Thor asked inquisitively. 

"No, sometimes I go for a walk or wander around on my floor. Some mornings I sleep later than I sho-" Steve broke off as he said that. The previous two things were normal behaviours. Because yeah, every one of them would sometimes chill on their own floor of the Stark Tower every now and then. And yeah, he does go for a walk if he gets up too early (doesn't sleep at all). But sleeping in was not a normal trait for Steven Grant Rogers. Just like Natasha, he would always be awake early, at the latest, 6:30 every morning. He was trained in the military, for gods sake. If he were to change his sleeping patterns, or to _sleep in_ , something had to be up. And he knew as soon as one of his team mates found out, they'd think exactly the same. Steve just hoped that Thor had missed it. 

"You're sleeping in now, Captain?" Shit. He didn't miss it. 

"Um, occasionally when I stay up too late, get lost in my sketchbook, you know.." His mind raced for an excuse, a white lie, as they call it. He hated telling anything but the truth, but if he wanted to hide everything that was going on, he had to. It was getting hard though, and for a brief moment he was wondering why he was even trying. ' _Just tell him_ ' his mind would scream. ' _You've gone this far, you're broken and damaged, what harm could come of burdening others with your troubles?_ ' the voices would taunt. Steve closed his eyes momentarily, let out a shaky breath and stood up. 

"I'm making some toast and coffee, want anything?" He asked Thor, completely changing the subject abruptly. Thor was figuring it out, too. 

"I was about to find the cupboard of pastries and icing before I startled you from your thoughts" Thor explained, mildly confused at the sudden change of conversation. 

"What flavour?" Steve asks, knowing what the demigod is trying to say. 

"Whichever that is at the front" Thor answered, getting up and going over to sit at the breakfast bar. 

"Morning. Ah, Thor, you're back. Glad you graced me with your ungodly presence at 5 o'clock this morning" Tony drawled sarcastically as he walked in. He always seemed to have that smooth, charming, half-drunk-but-I'm-not-actually-drunk voice, even in the morning. 

"It was half of an hour past the 5, not even early!" Thor exclaimed with a sheepish grin. 

"Yeah, well, you got me on a night that I'd actually chosen sleep over me, my lab, 10 cups of coffee and J nagging at me for hours on end. Next time, zap back down to earth in Barton's room and leave him a nice tribal pattern etched into his carpet" Tony joked. Steve was listening to their conversation, glad that he wasn't being acknowledged. He found it hard to talk and socialise and act like everything was okay when all he wanted to do was go back to bed and sleep for hours or hide somewhere quiet and cry for a while or stand on his balcony and _scream_ till his lungs were raw and he had no voice left. But he couldn't. He couldn't because what normal person did that? What sane, normal, balanced person wanted to cry in a corner somewhere for hours? If he did any of these things, people would call him crazy. He'd be relieved of his duties, for sure. They'd send him away, has team would never want to see him again. 

And that's when a sudden thought struck deep within him. 

His team wouldn't want to be. associated with him. His family would probably disown him. He couldn't think of a time or a place in this century where he'd be anywhere but living in Stark Tower with these guys. He's so close to them, they are all he has left. He feels the same way towards everyone, except for Tony. Tony's different, and Steve knows why. He _likes_ Tony and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Sure, he's single, hasn't been with Pepper for over a year. But is he into guys? Hell no, or so Steve thinks. He's also got it into his head that he's a fucked up mess that nobody could love, so there's that, too. He feels different towards Tony but doesn't say anything for fear of being rejected not just by him, but by everybody. 

Everything's confusing and nothing's right and he wants to crawl into a dark hole and go back to sleep. 

And maybe never wake up. 

And that's the scary part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's another chapter. Be proud of me, this is the first time in a while I'm actually keeping up to date and writing new chapters for something. Fay x


	3. Autumn Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's act is slowly falling apart. And he's not doing much to hide it anymore..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again. Quick note, if you read the first chapter when I first posted it, I've added some stuff to it so go and check it out (sorry, I'm just never really happy with my writing so I'm always finding ways to make it better). Promise I'll fix everything up before I post from now on. x

Tony catches on not long after Thor notices somethings off. 

He overlooks it when Steve sleeps in on a Sunday instead of his normal morning routine of training with Tony at 8 before he goes on a run (which tony thinks is ridiculous. Who wants to exercise right after they've exercised?). When Steve wakes up at 9, he promptly apologises and assures he'll be on time next week, but his words sound weak and his promise half-hearted. 

When Steve stops turning up to movie nights, Tony quietly notes it down in his head for later, and when Steve starts tuning out of conversations he's apart of at breakfast, Tony stops telling himself it's 'nothing'. 

Natasha and Clint have been quietly observing as well. While on an op together, they'd talk about how different Steve is, how much more reserved he's become. They're worried, the whole teams worried, and one night, when they start to talk, they find out everybody else has the same concerns and something needs to be done. 

It's a Wednesday night in the middle of August. It's pretty windy outside and drizzling a little. Trees sway in the wind as if they're drunk and dark, angry clouds cover the stars. Steve's gone out "for a walk. Haven't been out in a while" he explained in short before he headed for the elevator earlier in the night, before dinner. Everyone else had had dinner, Tony and Bruce had spaghetti that Bruce'd cooked and Thor had dinner at Janes before he came home. Natasha and Clint had Thai food on the way home from another op and walked in a little after Thor. It was around 8 when everybody was back, except for Steve. 

"Hey, how's it going?" Clint asked as he walked in from the elevator, Natasha behind him. Tony was sitting on the lounge, tapping at something on his phone. Bruce was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and Thor was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. 

"Life is as it should be" Thor offered in return. 

"Yeah, about that..." Bruce added, making everybody except Tony turn his way. Bruce walked over to the lounge and sat down, across from Tony. 

"What are you talki-" Natasha started, not sure what Bruce was alluding to, when Tony cut her off. 

"You're worried about Steve" Tony said, turning a statement into a question. 

"Yeah. You too?" Bruce asked, more straightforward than Tony had been. And Thor was grateful for now he could understand what was going on. He slowly got up and moved over to where the two were talking, inviting himself into the conversation and sitting down next to Tony. Natasha plonked herself down next to Bruce on the other lounge and Clint sat on the floor, leaning on one of the lounges with one knee bought up to his chest. 

"Mr. Military never misses a beat. He's always up at the same time, always the same routine, it does my fuckin' head in. But it's normal. For him, anyway. Have you guys noticed that he _sleeps in_ now?" Tony mused, concern weirdly evident in his voice. Concern isn't a normal tone for Tony Stark. He isn't very immersed in others personal lives unless he _has_ to be or he's actually worried about someone else. And if Tony's worried about someone else, it's probably something to be worried about. Also, Tony doesn't just worry about any old Joe on the street. He has to be close to them to worry about their wellbeing, and he's only known Steve for 2 years. And the whole team knows about the trust issues Stark has. There's something else there that he's not telling anybody, but that's for another time. Another time when Steve not acting at all like Steve isn't the topic of the night. 

"I found him sitting, watching the sunrise the other morning when I returned from Asgard. He seemed tense, he flinched when I made myself present. He also informed me that he normally woke up at that time but he did mention he sleeps later now. I believe he did not wish to release this information to me as he changed the conversation rather quickly" Thor explained, concern etched onto his face. 

"He's not happy. I know his circumstances and everything, and true, we don't know know what goes on in his head, but he was still always happy and cheery. I don't know if it's been an act since we first met him but personally I don't think so. I think this has started a little while ago and gotten worse quickly" Bruce offered, finally telling the team about his worries. 

"When you try and have a conversation with him, he tunes out and he looks like death 24/7. I mean, yeah, we're The Avengers and we fight crime and aliens and all that shit, but we're not in battle every day of the week. Nobody can be getting 8+ hours of sleep a night and look _that_ tired" Clint offered his concerns this time, everybody intently listening. This atmosphere was far from the cheery, light, comical one that hung around their usual conversations. 

"I'm really worried about him" Natasha said simply, feeling that everything had been said and not really wanting to add to the gloom of the conversation. A short silence fell over the group and all that was heard was the soft patter of rain on the large windows. Just when Bruce was about to say something again, the doors of the elevator opened and in walked Steve, small dots of water on his navy jacket that was zipped all the way up. 

"Hey" he said flatly, walking over to where the rest of them were sat. 

"Hey man, nice walk?" Clint asked casually. 

"Yeah. Started to rain so I came back. What are you guys talking about?" Steve asked, leaning against the back of the lounge. A tiny pause between the 5 people huddled in an odd shape on Tony's couch rang alarm bells as nobody said anything. Just as Thor was about to say something, hopefully anything but the truth, Tony spoke up. 

"Just asking Thor how his trip back home was and _trying_ to get out of these two what mission they just came back from. You try, man. They won't tell me" Tony fell right into a casual, everyday conversation and sometimes Bruce and Thor wondered how he did it. Clint and Natasha could lie on cue, but they were trained to and would only do it if needed (which they would have here, it was needed for the sake of their friend). And each and every one of them held their breath for a second because they could all tell that Steve knew something was up. But he didn't bat an eyelid. 

"Uh, no, it's okay. You have fun trying to figure that out. I'm a bit tired, gonna head to bed" he explained with a fake smile. 

"You haven't had any food yet?" Bruce queried. 

"Not hungry" he mumbled, turning around and walking back to the elevator that would take him to his floor. Usually Steve Rogers was the most polite, well respected man you'd ever meet. Around friends and people he's close to, he's a little more casual but he's never downright grumpy or mumbly like this. The only exception to this statement would be when somebody disobeys an order/something goes wrong on an op or he's been injured somehow and in that circumstance anybody deserves to be a little whiney and grumpy. 

But whiney and grumpy were Tony's traits, nowhere near Steve's normal personality. 

That night Tony lay awake in his bed, pondering whether or not to go down to his lab to distract his wandering mind. However, he got lost in his thoughts before he could make a coercive decision. He was worried about Steve, really worried. Concerned to the point where he couldn't get to sleep. The whole team had an uneasy feeling about the whole situation, but for some reason, it was bothering Tony to the point of insomnia. 

He knew why, and it confused the hell out of him. 

He cares about Steve. Off the record, he cares about the whole team, no matter how much he'll tell you he doesn't. But there's a little more concern when it comes to the subject of Steve, there always has been. And he never knew why, until now. 

Tony _likes_ Steve and there's not a damn thing _he_ can do about it. Besides, there are bigger concerns to worry about right now. Such as Steve's wellbeing and whatnot. What Tony doesn't realise is that if he and/or Steve just addressed their situation, it may actually help the lost solider. 

But life isn't easy and sometimes it takes going on a journey across the world (metaphorically speaking) to figure out what you needed was at home, right beside you the whole time.


	4. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve breaks.

Steve doesn't care anymore. About anything. He can't seem to motivate himself to do anything and everything he _does_ do seems like it takes all of his energy. This shouldn't happen, as he can have lasting energy as long as he eats enough because of the serum. But this does happen, especially when he forgets or couldn't be bothered to eat. And he of all people knows that this is bad. He knew something was wrong before, but now it's affecting his health. And he's also the first to call himself a hypocrite because if anybody else was in his situation, he'd have them marching to see some sort of Doctor or doing something to get better. But he just can't be bothered or be physically motivated to. He's past just needing to talk, he needs help now and his only hope is his team. 

His only hope is how worried they are, and if they're worried enough to come out and ask him about something or actually do something about his dramatic change in personality. Because he sure as he'll isn't talking on his own. No, that would mean opening up and letting somebody in. That would mean telling them all his worries and becoming a burden on other people. And he can't do that, _no_. Because he's Steve Rogers, he's god damn Captain America and he helps other people, not the other way around. 

At least that's what he thinks. 

That's what he thinks when Clint finds him sitting on the floor in the main lounge room of the tower, resting his head on the big glass walls that overlook the entire city. Clint asks him why he's awake at 3AM and he doesn't answer. Nobody wants to or needs to hear about his problems. He knows he needs help, yes. But he doesn't want to get help because that entails talking and somebody to listen and they'd get bored and he'd probably be distracting them from doing something actually productive. 

He used to be told that all the time as a child. He'd have time off school and when he'd come back the kids would laugh at his skinny figure and taunt him. When he'd have an asthma or panic attack, he'd ask to see the nurse and the kids would yell at him "attention seeker, attention seeker" and "whenever Rogers has a problem, he runs off to the teacher to tell mummy. Nobody wants to hear about his problems". So he stopped voicing his concerns. When he'd become sick, his mum would yell at him for not telling her sooner because by the time he'd say anything, he'd have the flu, verging on bronchitis or phenomena. 

One time at school when Steve was about 10, a fairly new girl in his class walked up to him at lunch. 

_"Why are you always sick?" She asked him._

_"Don't know, I just am" he answered vaguely._

_"The others say you aren't really dyin', you're just doin' it for attention" she told him matter-of-factly._

_"What? I'm not dying, who said that?" He asked her, confused as to why the other kids would make such assumptions._

_"I don't know, just somebody. I should go. Mamma told me not to play near the sick kids, if you even are" she told him before skipping away to a group of girls who began laughing and pointing at him not 5 minutes later._

Since he was young, Steve has kept things to himself because he was always a burden on his mother, a bother to his teachers and an attention seeker according to the kids at school. This, piled up with everything that happened in the war, causing post traumatic stress, and the certain feelings he hasn't had a chance to think about until recently was what started the crumbling of his foundations. The walls were slowly falling, feeling more like they were being pummelled by a wrecking ball. He never wanted to be a burden. He never did, but he couldn't take it anymore. 

"Steve? Steve, you in there? Earth to Captain Rogers" Clint pressed until Steve finally turned to face him. He's sitting on the ground, his knees bought up to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around himself. Clint's kneeling in front of him, a sandwich in his hand. 

"Hey" is all that Steve says. 

"Hey. Wanna tell me what your doing up at 20 past 3 in the morning?" Clint asked, realising this could be his chance to see what was going on with Steve. None of the others have had a chance to talk to him about any of this yet, so he decided, why not now?

"I could ask you the same question.." He answered vaguely. That was another new characteristic for Steve, he was very vague about everything, which was never anything like him before. He was always straight to the point. Something needs to be done, he did it. Something needed an answer, he found it. Tony had asked him about a political issue the other day and usually Steve gets right into things like that, discussing with Tony about governments and how Tony's technologies could help so many people in different situations and how the countries are run weirdly now. But he just shrugged and said something along the lines of "that's unfortunate, I hope it gets better". 

"I was making a sandwich. I know for a fact that you don't eat in the middle of the night, or usually get up at all. I distinctly remember a conversation with you and Tony once, you were telling us about the importance of sleep and getting a solid 8 hours and waking up early and all that bullshit. I asked you what the latest time you go to bed was and you told me about 10 on a normal night, and that you never wake up in the middle of the night on purpose or get out of bed because that throws the sleep pattern off or something" Clint recited almost the whole conversation, to make a point, of course. 

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't exactly call this waking up on purpose" there it was again, the vagueness of the sentence leaving Clint to guess the rest. 

"What woke you up then? Cause I've been up for at least half an hour and I haven't heard anythi-" Clint stopped himself short, remembering the super soldiers extreme hearing. But Steve just shook his head. The air was a pleasant temperature, despite the cold air outside. The heating in the tower kept everything warm, and Clint was comfortable in a singlet and shorts, but Steve was shivering in a t-shirt and sweat pants. 

"What's wrong, man? You've been acting, differently for a while, is anything up?" Clint asked Steve carefully, not wanting to upset him in any way. After all, he had no idea of the extent of what was going on. A cold shiver ran up Steve's spine when he heard the question. Everything in him was simultaneously screaming _tell him_ and _don't say a word_. He was torn between the two, his mind racing with thoughts. _If I tell him, where the hell do I start? If I don't, will it become more obvious? Will I get worse?_ He couldn't think straight for the life of him and he started to realise he was beginning to panic. 

Something inside him _screamed_ and this time, he couldn't ignore it. _Just do it, just fucking get it over with and do it_. 

Before he could start, Clint spoke up again. 

"Look man, if you don't wanna talk, that's fine. I just wanted to know if you were okay, that's all" he said as he started to get up. _It's now or never_. 

"N-no. I'm, I'm not-" he took a deep breath, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. 

"-I'm not okay"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been a while. I've been busy, but I'm still writing. Once again, thank you for reading, love you all. x
> 
> *Also, while I was typing the chapter summary, I was like "this'll sound like sad and mysterious like oh what's gonna happen" and then autocorrect had to go ahead and change it to 'Steve bread'. Like, that's not suspenseful or good at all. I'm just imagining a very patriarchal piece of red, white and blue bread with Steve's face on it. What the fuck


	5. Tell Somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not everyone, and it's not everything. But Steve finally tells someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't know how many times I had to stop myself from writing 'mate' into the dialogue, because Americans don't use mate.

"You're... you're not okay?" Clint asked, just to make sure what he had heard was right. As soon as it came out, he mentally kicked himself. But in retrospect, he thought, it needed to be asked. Steve only shook his head as a response. 

"Steve, what's up? I know we're not like life long best friends or anything, but I hope you know that you can talk to me or any of the team whenever you need to. Hell, can't count the number of times I've bored Nat with details of the more hairy missions I'm sent on. And I've had many a conversation with Bruce, he's even taught me how to meditate. Don't ever hesitate, know that we're here, man" 

"I know, I've just had a hard time adjusting to a new life, new people, new century, inevitably" Steve explained. 

"Dude, I can't say I understand but I will agree that change is fucking hard" Clint offered, not sure how to relate to Steve's situation. 

"I thought I was adjusting, I thought I was slowly getting a grasp on everything. Changes in technology, whole generations passing, politics and laws being completely different, social norms are a huge thing that are almost completely foreign to me now. But I was adapting, slowly. With help from you guys and the computers. But it's, I don't know. It all suddenly became too much. Too many things are different and I can't seem to get my head around anything anymore or grasp on to reality" Steve explained parts of what he was going through in a long, winded explanation. He was hoping he hadn't scared off Clint but he was ready for the whole 'oh, you'll be fine. You'll get over it'. It never came. 

"Man, that's, that's rough. Again, I can't even begin to imagine or pretend I know what you're going through. So it's suddenly all caught up to you?" Clint asked, sitting completely on the floor with his legs crossed, half facing Steve, half facing the window looking out into the spectacular city. 

"It's just all come crashing down at once, I think. It's all-" Steve took a deep breath, trying to think and compose himself. 

"Everything's decided to catch up to me at once and then it all turned grey" he explained with a flat tone. Not quite sure if Clint would get it, but not quite ready to continue on either. 

"It's- you mean it's all grey, like..." Clint was trying to get Steve to elaborate while simultaneously trying to figure out what the hell 'grey' was an analogy for. 

"Um, it's just grey" was all Steve could muster. 

"Do you mean, everything _feels_ grey?" Clint offered. 

"Yeah...exactly" Steve breathed out, a sigh of relief or exhaustion, neither of them knew. 

"It's sounds like you maybe need someone to talk to. Like, we're here and everything, but I'm not a psychiatrist or trained in anything to do with head doctors" Clint explained. 

"They already did that, sent me to a shrink. Couple of months after I woke up. She deemed me 'mentally okay'. I have no idea what she meant by mentally okay, but I think right now I'm far from it" Steve said. Clint just gave him a reassuring smile. 

"Look, I'm pretty sure Bruce knows some really good head doctors, not like some random one out of a newspaper, but actual, legit people who can help you. If you're up for it, I can check it out?" Clint asked him, eager to find help for his friend. 

"T-thanks. But I might talk to him in a bit. I might go and see somebody, if it'll make everything go away...I'll try anything-" _the man sounded desperate_ , Clint thought. "But I'd like to explain everything to you guys first. Properly" Steve went on. 

"You can do whatever you like, man. We're here for you no matter what" Clint assured the almost crumbling man next to him. Steve took a deep breath in. 

"I'm gonna go back to bed. Thanks, Clint" he said simply before getting up and walking down the hall towards his room. Barton sat for a minute, trying to process what had just happened. Steve had just admitted to him, however brief and very unexplained, why he'd been acting weird. He'd basically just told Clint everything that was on his mind and Clint could only offer a simple 'we're here for you'. He felt both relieved and stupid at the same time. And nobody was awake to let them know. Or so he thought. 

"Jarv, you there?" Clint asked the dark, empty living room. 

"Yes, Mr. Barton, always" Jarvis' smooth, sarcastic voice answered from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously. 

"Can you keep it down, so that Steve doesn't hear, but is Stark awake?" Clint asked the AI, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city. 

"It is almost 4am on a Thursday night, so, typically, yes. He is awake" Jarvis answered in short. 

"Okay, where is he?" 

"In an off limits area of one of his labs, Mr. Barton. I'm afraid I don't have the authority to let you in" Jarvis answered as Clint got up off the ground, walking towards the elevator. He knew which lab Tony would be in but couldn't get in without Tony's approval, which he had a slim chance of getting. Or, once again, so he thought. He'd give it his best shot, though. 

"Can you tell him I want to talk to him?" Clint asked Jarvis while stepping into the shiny chrome lift. After about 10 seconds, Jarvis's voice rang through the elevator. 

"I'm afraid he's in deep concentration and has briefly denied access, Mr. Bar-" 

"Tell him it's about Steve, Jarv" Clint cut him off, hoping his last resort would work. The elevator stopped and the doors opened, but about 10 feet out of the lift was a frosted glass wall with a door in the middle which Clint didn't even try to open. He already knew the outcome, locked. 

He stepped out into the small space between the wall and the glass pane. The sound of metal sliding on rubber filled the space around him as the elevator doors closed. It was eerily silent, and the shadows of god knows what contraptions that were cast upon the frosted glass didn't help to alleviate the strange feeling of the empty, quiet room. Clint crossed his arms over his chest and lent on one hip, a static stance for him. He was about to leave, guessing that Tony and Jarvis had gotten into some argument that had led to Tony's shutting down of the system within his vicinity (Clint didn't really know how it worked, but when Tony got mad with Jarvis he would re-wire or re-calibrate something so that Jarvis would disappear for a while. He always came back, though). With a yawn, Clint had started to turn around and head for the button to open the elevator doors when he heard a click followed by an opening door. He turned back and saw Tony standing in the doorway, fluorescent lights behind him deeply contrasting the dull lighting of the small space Clint was standing in. 

"This better be bloody good, Barton. I swear if you name dropped Steve just to get me out here for some godforsaken stupid thing you've-" 

"I just sat with him for about 20 minutes, Tony. He told me, well, everything. Not in detail, which worries me. But he told me what's going on and, and he said he wanted to explain it to us, all of us, really soon" Clint explained quickly. 

"He-" Tony took a deep breath. "Okay. Thanks" he said simply before closing the door once again. 

"Arse" the archer muttered, just as the door opened again. Tony, while slipping something small into his pocket, closed the door behind him and walked towards the elevator. Clint pressed the button, the doors opened and they both stepped in. 

"I'm not deaf and I have an AI which see's and hear's everything, idiot" Tony sarcastically mused as the doors closed. 

"Going to bed?" Clint asked Tony. 

"After a drink, yeah. So, he told you everything?" Tony asked casually. 

"Yeah, in short" Clint answered but didn't elaborate. He didn't want to retell what he'd heard and leave something out or accidentally twist Steve's words. Thankfully Tony was thinking along the same lines. 

"No offence, but I don't want to hear about it from you. I wanna know what's going on in full, from the man himself. Whatever he wants to tell us, we'll listen" Tony said after a few seconds of silence. 

"Good. I didn't really want to disclose stuff he's told me or mess up information. For once, Stark, we're on the same page" Clint huffed a small laugh. 

"Would that page include a scotch before bed, Barton? I know I'm gonna need one before whatever's about to happen happens" Tony mused as he stepped out of the elevator. 

"I'm up for that" Clint followed Tony over to the bar where they had a drink each before heading in opposite directions to their rooms. It's safe to say that neither of them actually got a good sleep that night. Tony really didn't sleep properly for about 2 nights after that, either. Not until Steve finally decided that the time was right to tell the team. Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so it has been like a century and I'm sorry but I just started yr 12 and am currently drowning in paper and booklets so. I'm writing another chapter right now as well but it's like 3-5 chapters ahead of this so yeah this is going well...
> 
> Anyway, love you all, have a wonderful whatever.


	6. Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo how's life? Yeah, it's been a while but here's another chapter. 
> 
> Have a good one, guys. Oh and happy new year.

It was around 9'o clock Sunday morning. The kitchen/dining/living room area where they would frequently pass each other but was rarely occupied by everyone at the same time was full of conversation and general breakfast noises. Once in a week or two was around the amount of times everyone ended up in the same spot in Stark Tower these days, so it was rare that they were all together again. Everyone had lives. 

Thor had Asgard, Clint had a family and field work, as did Natasha with her own undercover assignments. Bruce frequently dropped off the face of the earth and ended up in some country nobody had ever heard of, helping the sick, poor and injured. He also had projects with and without Tony he'd work on from time to time. Tony, well he had business meetings which he evaded at all costs, scotch and his labs. He was often flying to London for a weekend to settle some deal or LA for a day to sort out something he forgot about years ago. But from time to time, they'd all end up back in the tower to stay for a while. 

When Tony had asked everyone if they'd like to move in, he didn't expect a grand entrance by the team. He hardly expected anyone to show up at all. First he asked Bruce, from which he received a prompt 'sure, sounds like fun' from the doctor. Next the offer was extended to Thor, who Tony thought would move back to Asgard. When he showed up in his cape and armour with a hand bag, Tony sent him to the shops to look for a suitcase (he thought it was the customary way to hold _all_ your belongings, Jane did it all the time). He asked Clint and Natasha next, not even bothering to guess their answers from the previous ones he got. Nat thought it a was good idea so they'd be closer if they had an emergency call out and Clint thought they could have pizza nights and he could play with Tony's tech when he wasn't home with his family. Steve was the last one Tony asked, and now he was regretting waiting to ask him, feeling like he made Steve feel left out. He was pretty sure that Steve was happy in his place in Brooklyn, because that's where he grew up. When Tony asked him, he simply said 'I'll get back to you'. That was on a Wednesday. On the Friday morning following, Steve walked through the doors of Stark Tower with a backpack over his shoulder and a duffel bag in his hand. 

Tony, of course, had enough rooms for them all on the penthouse floor. His was the biggest room because he lived in it now, but he was never in it all that much. The others' rooms were quite large, larger than Steve had ever had in his life. It wasn't plain, either. It was furnished well, and within a week of his moving in, his room had a record player in it and a comfier, more vintage looking chair than the one that was already in there. It was safe to say that Tony did care about them, just didn't like showing it very much. But they knew. 

***

Steve had missed training with Tony again, but hadn't been around for Tony to question him about it. They'd all thought he'd slept in again, little did they know he'd been awake since 4am from a terrifying nightmare involving ice. No matter how many blankets he'd grabbed from his cupboard or how many times he'd asked Jarvis to turn up the heat in his room, he still sat in bed, shivering. 

As Steve turned the corner from the hall into the spacious living area, Tony and Clint both looked up, then at each other. Clint didn't want Steve to know that Tony kind of knows, but he needed to tell him. So they didn't really try and organise a meeting point where they'd all show up and Steve would walk in, they kind of just wanted to wait till everyone came back together again. Ironically, it happened only a couple of days after the night Steve told Clint. Tony wasn't into coincidences, but he sure as hell couldn't come up with any other explanation. 

They both kept their mouths shut as Clint reached for the coffee jug and Tony opened the paper. They were both sitting at the table with Thor. Bruce was behind the kitchen counter island, leaning on it with some tea and a banana. Natasha was sitting on a breakfast bar stool, leaning on the other side of the island, half facing them, eating an apple. Steve sat down at the table, his back to the large windows facing out to the city. With Clint a seat up from him, Thor across and Tony up the other end, Steve took a deep breath. He had no idea how he'd do this. 

"Morning Steve, sleep well?" Bruce asked innocently. 

 

"Um, y-yeah" Steve answered with his fail-safe, almost auto-generated response. He took a second to think and decided now was the time, or he may never do it. 

"Actually...no. Not that well" he vaguely added. Out of his sight, Tony and Clint shared a look once again. 

"Oh, wake up in the middle of the night? I do that sometimes. I wake up and then start to think about something and can't get back to sleep. Usually it follows a coffee at 7 and a nap at 4" Bruce tried to start a conversation with Steve, laughing a bit. But Steve didn't answer. Natasha looked up from her apple, a mix of concern and confusion on her face. Finally, Steve spoke up. 

"I had a nightmare. That's- yeah. Couldn't get back to sleep" he kind of answered Bruce vaguely, the tone in his voice short.

"A nightmare?" Thor asked, trying to understand what Steve was talking about. 

"Yeah. Seems weird to talk about it, it was nothing really. Just a nightmare" he answered, obviously back-peddling from what he'd just admitted to. He was re-thinking everything, but everyone wanted him to talk. He just felt weird about it. Feelings weren't his thing, really. Listening to others', yeah, he could do that. But talk about his own? That was another story. 

"Does the Captain experience such 'mares often?" Thor asked him. 

A long silence followed. Steve was looking down at his hands, which were tightly clasped together in front of him on the table.

"I- I'm not okay." That was an answer. Not the one Thor was looking for, but it was the one they'd all wanted for a while now. Steve continued. 

"When you guys ask me that, I cover everything up. And I don't think I'm a capable leader of this team if I'm constantly putting up a wall and lying to you guys. And yeah, almost ev- every night Thor" Steve's hands started to shake as he spoke, and they hadn't stopped. 

"Steve, it's okay. We're here to listen. Can you please tell us everything, we need to know to help you" Clint tried, ignoring his coffee altogether. 

"Everything like the other night or, _everything_?" Steve asked slowly. Nobody answered, but Clint gave him a pleading look. 

"I thought I was getting used to everything here but it's too much and it's too hard. I- even though I have you guys, I know you're here but I feel alone. I can't keep up with the technology and the conversations have so many things in them that I don't understand. There's also so much I can remember from before the ice that wakes me up in the middle of the night and stupid things like noises that make me freeze and fall into a repressed memory. I'm accepting the changes but I can't contextualise anything anymore. Everything that I know, or knew, has changed. I was doing okay, until I wasn't" Steve never took his eyes off his hands, which continued to shake. 

"I didn't know..." Natasha started to say, but didn't know how to finish. Tony kept to his usual, abrupt self when asking 

"How long?" 

"A while" Steve answered vaguely again, and when Tony raised his eyebrows just as Steve looked up, he tried again. 

"Few months now. It won't go away. I know I've probably got post, s d t, or something. I think I just didn't really want to admit it yet" he confessed. The team could tell this was brutally painful for him. 

"What are you remembering?" Bruce asked him quietly. Steve looked up, looked Bruce properly, straight in the eyes when he answered. 

"Everything"


	7. Peacefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know it's been a while. Shit come's up, life goes on. 
> 
> Hope you like this one. Thanks for keeping up and reading this, love you guys. x
> 
> *also I have a new story kinda it's just gonna be a bunch of drabbles from a bunch of fandoms idk go check it out, request something if you wanna, yeah.

Steve had fallen asleep on the lounge. For the first time. Ever. Tony would have taken a picture of it because he was the only other one home and Barton wouldn't have believed him, but just as he discovered the sleeping figure, he started to stir. 

"Damn" Tony muttered to himself. He didn't even have his phone on him. Deciding that the small task he'd left Dummy of sweeping up the crumpled papers all over his workshop floor could very easily result in the burning down of his building, he let the sleeping soldier lay and turned for his lab. 

He was nearly out of the common area when he heard Steve move again, but this time it was accompanied with groans and muffled words. Tony decided to turn back around, remembering the conversation he'd had with the team not 2 days earlier. Steve had opened up about everything. And it was more than they could have ever expected. Nevertheless, they were adamant that they were there to help, so Tony walked back over to Steve. He could now hear what the troubled man was muttering. 

"No, no stop. Hang on, don't let go. No. No stop! stop! STOP!" He was yelling in his sleep at this point. ' _This can't be good_ ' was Tony's first thought, and he walked around to the front of the lounge to crouch in front of Steve. 

Tony rested his hand on Steve's shoulder and gently shook him. He wasn't expecting such a sudden reaction, but the man laying on the lounge jolted awake and backwards into the back of the lounge faster than Tony could blink. 

"Woah, woah, it's okay " Tony put both of his hands up in the air in defence, not knowing what else to do. 

"S-sorry. I just, if I'm woken up I either fight or flight. I think my sub-conscience kind of stops me from hurting anyone. I've only ever woken up punching a pillow once, that was when I lived alone in Brooklyn in that shield apartment and I'm rambling aren't I?" He'd just realised that he was talking, he was telling Tony all these things that were on his mind that he didn't initially intend to let out. 

"That's okay. I may not be a psychologist or sympathetic in any way, but hey, I've got ears" 

"And sarcasm" Steve quipped with a small smile. 

"There you go. Everyone's got it out for Tony" Tony joked. There was a slight pause as Tony thought. 

"Hey, wanna tell me what you were dreaming about? You know..before they have the head doctors pickin' through your brain for hours. At least I add humour to the conversation" Tony tried to get Steve talking. Steve sat up properly, motioned for Tony to sit next to him. Tony accepted the offer, quite gladly. A little too gladly, you could say, if you were watching the two from a distance. 

"Uh, my, um, my friend. He was; we grew up together. We were real close, you know, and when he joined up, that was all I wanted to to as well. Well, I ended up with the serum and him and I formed our own squad. The Howling Commandos they called us" there was a small smile on Steve's face which Tony watched fall into a solemn stare. 

"We were on a train, with it's side cut open. He, uh, he slipped. He slipped and fell and I caught him" Steve took a deep breath. He didn't continue. 

"Steve?" Tony questioned, being serious for once in his life. Steve was staring straight ahead, down at the coffee table. 

"I couldn't hang on. He slipped right out of my hand. The man who got me out of stupid street scuffs, helped my mum and I out when he was in the same position as us, hell, found me dates to stupid dances of all things. My brother, I just let him slip out of my hand and fall to his death. That's what I remember when I have that nightmare" he stopped talking abruptly, Tony knew he wasn't going to elaborate any more than that. But this was progress, this was Steve talking and getting somewhere and this was something. 

"Man..." Tony was lost for words and could only shake his head in disbelief. 

"So, that's why you won't ride the trains here?" Tony asked carefully after a long silence between them. 

"Partly. Also partly because I can't figure out the ticket process, but yeah. What do they call it, the head doctors? PSD?" Steve asked, looking over at Tony. 

"PTSD, Steve. I think you have it. But don't worry, I have it too, and I'm still as handsome and charming as ever" Tony flashed his signature grin at Steve. 

"I'll agree with that" Steve said, chuckling. 

"A real laugh! That's good to see..." Tony laughed too. There was a pause with silence so thick you could slice through it with a knife. Realisation hit them both at the same time. 

"Wait. Steve...what do you-" Tony swallowed thickly, not knowing how to react. He didn't think this would happen, ever, let alone like this. 

Steve started to panic. 

"I-I'm sorry. Tony, I didn't mean, I mean you're, you are good- it's not that you're not, it's just that I didn't mean, well I did but-" he started to mumble and fall over his own words. Tony cut him off, sensing it was only causing him stress. 

"Steve, calm down. Steve it's okay. It's, it was just surprising, that's all. I was caught off guard. It's not every day a cute guy tells me I'm handsome and charming. Or, rather, agrees with me on the subject" Tony explained. 

"A what-?" Steve sounded, if possible, even more panicked. 

"Steve, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I thought you were, that's all, it's fine. I'm sorry I bought it up" Tony quickly back-pedalled. A conversation like this was difficult in the best of situations. In Steve's situation? Tony didn't want to go there. 

"No, no let's not push it under the mat. I've been doing that for too long and look where it's got me. I'm a depressed mess" Steve sounded calmer now, the initial shock had worn off. 

"Steve," Tony started, but Steve wouldn't let him. 

"No. Am I wrong? That's what I am. A depressed mess. And I now know I can get help and I will, but apparently only by talking, or so people keep telling me" he looked right at Tony now. Tony hated talking about feelings and shit, but this felt different. 

"Steve, if we're talking about this, I'm not dancing around the subject" Tony stated particularly flatly. 

"Okay?" Steve questioned, not saying more, waiting for Tony to keep going. 

"I like you. A lot. There" Tony had never actually said that in all seriousness to a person before. He'd loved people, like Pepper, but never talked about feelings out loud or actually started from the beginning, started from the 'I like you'. He was always the confident, cocky, ' _drinks, Saturday night, 9, see you there_ 'kind of guy. Now he _was_ starting from the 'I like you'. And it felt good. For a split second, until he started to panic and thunk he'd just ruined everything and Steve would have a nervous breakdown and never speak to him again. Just as he was almost pulled into his own thoughts, Steve spoke up. 

"I like you too" he whispered. Tony looked up at him. The younger man had tears in his eyes and he looked exhausted. Tony took in his whole stature, tired, broken, worried. 

"What's wrong?" Tony asked quickly, wanting to fix whatever was making the man he adored upset. 

"I'm scared. I don't really know what 'anxiety' entails but the internet says I have it apparently, from what I can gather from the media these days, being anything but heterosexual is still controversial and in the 40's the ice wasn't melting. What's that about? Are we going to drown on our own planet?" Steve was collecting everything from the last few months and cramming it into one huge ball of worry. 

"Hey, it's okay. Steve, I can tell you right now that we both have anxiety after what we've been through. Yeah, it's still controversial, but accepted so much more than it used to be. There are huge parades celebrating that culture, it's amazing. And by the time the ice melts enough that this tower is underwater, I don't think this tower is going to be here anymore let alone us. Stop worrying for a minute and just breathe, okay?" Tony attempted to diffuse the situation, and it had worked. Steve was listening to his voice, growing calmer by the second. 

"So, what does this mean now?" Steve asked after a comfortable silence. 

"I don't know, but you look exhausted" Tony stated, a worried expression crossing his face. 

"I am. 95 percent of the time when I fall asleep it ends up in me waking up from a nightmare these days. I'm lucky if I get an hour of sleep most nights" Steve answered, following a yawn. 

"Jesus. You didn't tell us it was that bad, Steve" Tony frowned in concern. 

"Didn't want to worry you guys" was his answer. Tony sighed, thinking for a moment. He moved backwards onto the longer side of the lounge, sitting in the corner with his legs stretched out. 

"Come here" he said, holding his arm out. It was Steve's turn to frown. 

"Hey. If you're comfortable, I'm willing to give something a go" he said to Steve. 

"Something?" Steve need an elaboration on just one word. 

"You like me, right? I like you. Liking someone usually ends up in someone asking someone else out on a date and blah blah blah, cuddling at some point. We already know each other, skip the date thing for now. Come over here and see how you sleep if you're near someone instead of in your huge bed alone all night. Only if you want to" Tony tried to press the matter. He could see that Steve really wanted to sleep. Properly. But he also didn't want to scare him away. 

"Do you get nightmares?" Steve asked Tony quietly. 

"They got better when Pepper stayed. Worse when I'm alone. Can't speak for everyone, but I'd give it a try" Tony wasn't even stretching the truth this time, and Steve could tell. 

Steve moved a little closer to Tony. He eventually scooted over so they were inches apart. Tony motioned for him to swing his legs up to rest on the longer part of the lounge where he was practically laying already. He moved over and pressed himself up against the back of the lounge to make as much room for Steve as he could. Steve slid down and Tony put his arm around Steve's shoulders, sitting up a little so Steve could lean on him. He was oddly comfortable with another human practically lying on him. 

"What if someone comes back" Steve mumbled, sounding half asleep. Tony smiled at this. 

"It's Monday. Nobody's coming back until Wednesday. You can sleep all day if you want, if you need to" Tony spoke softly. He was weirdly okay with not being a hard, sarcastic pessimist while he was with Steve. Which was out of character, because that was what he was. In this moment he was gentle, and spoke softly, and he was okay with that. He was aware of how he talked, what words he say and the tones he'd use. Not particularly because Steve had a lot of problems at the moment, but just because he felt like he could let down his walls around Steve. These feelings had been building up for a while, but now he could express them it was a strange feeling. 

He was happy. And Steve was asleep. Peacefully.


End file.
